CHAPTER XXIII

IN RETIREMENT

THE years 1781 and 1782 were the most sorrowful of Mr. Jefferson's life. Calamity after calamity fell upon him with bewildering frequency and staggering force.

First came Arnold's invasion in January, 1781, and the censure which it aroused. Although Mr. Jefferson had done everything that was in his power, his enemies could not allow so choice an opportunity to pass, and they made him suffer.

Then, in June of the same year, came Tarleton's inroad, the narrow escape of Mr. Jefferson from Monticello, and the administrative chaos of the next few days.1

Again the Governor was not to blame; but again he was severely censured.

His family had refugeed to Poplar Forest, his estate in Bedford County; his Elk Hill plantation had been wrecked; more than a score of his slaves were dying or missing. On top of all this tribulation came the threat of impeachment! To a man of

In his Jeffersonian Calendar, Mr. William Eleroy Curtis states that Mr. Jefferson resigned the governorship. He did not resign.

his proud, sensitive nature this was probably the most unkindest cut of all.

He accepted the challenge, had himself elected to the Legislature in order that he might be able to meet his accusers face to face, won an easy victory from critics who failed to appear, and was soothed by a vote of confidence which lauded his ability, integrity, and rectitude. Nevertheless, Mr. Jefferson carried a sore heart with him to Poplar Forest; and neither his young disciple, Madison, nor his young neighbor, Monroe, could prevail upon him to quit his retirement.

Then, in April, 1781, he was stricken with the grief whose infinite pain none but parents realize -he lost an infant daughter.

But the worst of all was yet to come. tember, 1782, he lost his wife.

In Sep

This cherished companion had suffered in sympathy with her husband during these trying years; had felt the terror of sudden danger when the British raided her home and forced her into flight with a babe in her arms.

In May, 1782, she gave birth to her sixth child, and was never well again.

How tenderly her husband nursed her, how devotedly he stayed with her night and day during the months of her decline, what anguish he suffered when all hope was gone, how he fainted away as he was led from the room after the closing scene,

how he was as one distracted for weeks and weeks, and how he sunk into a melancholy from which nothing seemed able to arouse him-no words could describe without a parade of a grief which is best treated by the silence which respects it as sacred.

On her death-bed Mrs. Jefferson asked her husband not to give their children a stepmother, and he promised.

Forty-four years later, when he himself had finished the long walk, there were found in the secret drawer of his private cabinet locks of hair and other souvenirs of his wife and of each of his children, those living and those dead. The envelopes which contained these were all marked, in his beautiful writing, with words of identity and endearment, and these envelopes had the appearance of having been often handled.

The loved and loving wife had given birth to six children during a brief married life of ten years. Not robust at any time, the repeated ordeal of maternity sapped her constitution. Nature's warnings were not understood, and, with the sixth child, there remained at length no reserve of strength.

Amid the resurrection of so many old publications, why is it that no trump awakes to new life Jefferson's Notes on Virginia?

Strike from it the dry statistics, cull its choice passages, illustrate it with scenery and portraits,

preface it with a biographical chapter by way of introduction, and the result would be a volume which would delight all lovers of literature. Some of its passages are beautiful as descriptions of natural scenery; some are valuable as studies of political and economical problems; the chapter on the customs, peculiarities, and race characteristics of the Indians is deeply interesting; and its insight into the negro, as a man and an issue, is profound. The comments on government, on religious intolerance, on militarism, finance, education, slavery, and kindred subjects are in all respects worthy of the author of the Declaration of Independence.

The Notes on Virginia were written in response to twenty-three questions addressed to him by De Marbois, secretary of the French Legation at Philadelphia, who was instructed by his Government to secure information as to the resources, etc., of the colonies. It was during his retirement, in 1781, that Mr. Jefferson did most of the work on the Notes. In the winter of 1782 he added to them somewhat, and in the advertisement dated 1787 he regrets that some of the questions were answered imperfectly, but says that he could not apologize without going into "circumstances which would open old wounds, which have bled enough."

From the dates given, it will be seen that the Notes were the leisure work of the period of his greatest sorrow.

CHAPTER XXIV

IN CONGRESS

IN November, 1782, Congress unanimously and without a single adverse remark chose Mr. Jefferson as one of the commissioners to France. The summons came to him at a time when the first passionate grief had spent itself. Monticello was almost insupportable. Everything there reminded him of his loss. To remain there meant morbid brooding and apathy. Of all things, he most needed something to rouse him, to turn his thoughts outward. This call to duty was a blessing. By a natural revulsion of feeling, he responded promptly, accepting the appointment. He made all the necessary arrangements for leaving Monticello, and proceeded to Philadelphia for instructions. While waiting for a favorable chance to embark news came, February, 1783, that the preliminaries of peace between Great Britain and the United States had already been signed. There was no longer any need of his services in Europe, and Mr. Jefferson returned home.

But he had shown his willingness to reenter